Damien stared down at the security report on his phone. His mother's private residence. The family car. The silver watch. None of it was definitive proof that Evelyn was pulling the strings. But it was more than enough to send his thoughts spiraling into dangerous territory. "Send me every single detail," Damien commanded into the receiver. "Photos, high-res scans, exact timestamps—everything." "Yes, sir," the security chief responded before the line cut out. For several quiet moments, Damien remained motionless in his office, staring out the floor-to-ceiling glass at the sprawling city skyline below. Could someone from his own flesh and blood really be behind this targeted nightmare? His mother had spent her entire life fiercely protecting the family name. Chloe had certainly been hostile toward Alora when she first arrived, yet she had just helped Alora escape the estate. And Sophia... Damien shut his eyes, aggressively pushing the thought out of his mind. No. There were t

Damien stared at the high-resolution photograph for a long time. The quiet café. Alora sitting at the corner table. The shrouded figure sitting across from her. And that unmistakable geometric silver watch gleaming beneath the awning. His immediate instinct was to storm upstairs, pull Alora out of her room, and demand an explanation. But his hand froze over the phone. What would he even say? The person who has been methodically dismantling our lives was spotted having coffee with you? It sounded insane. Yet nothing about the past month had operated within the realm of sanity. He picked up his phone and dialed his security chief. "Identify the person sitting opposite my wife. Now." The chief hesitated over the line. "Sir, the outdoor angle is too obscured by the street foliage." "Then pull the internal café surveillance feeds." "We're already attempting to override their server access, Mr. Hartwell." Damien ended the call without another word. He leaned back into his heavy leath

Alora stayed in the car long after the call ended, staring out the windshield as the engine hummed softly. Ask Victoria. The words looped in her mind, over and over. Victoria had known her mother. Victoria had been spotted near the café. And now an anonymous caller was handing her Victoria’s name on a silver platter. It was almost too clean. That was what terrified Alora the most. Someone had been laying down breadcrumbs for weeks, nudging her from one target to another. What if Victoria was just another distraction? What if someone wanted her to turn against her stepmother to tear the family apart even further? She shifted the car into drive. There was only one way to know for sure. Victoria was alone when Alora arrived at her townhouse. She opened the door herself, her brow furrowing in surprise. "Alora?" "We need to talk." Victoria’s eyes narrowed slightly. "About what?" "My mother." A flicker of something crossed Victoria's face—a brief shadow of hesitation—before she

Alora stared at Damien, the phone heavy in her hands as the message burned into her vision.Ask Damien what happened the night your mother died.Her fingers went cold. Across the room, Damien didn't move. He stood completely rigid, his expression locked behind the unreadable mask he wore whenever a situation spun out of his control.For several agonizing seconds, neither of them spoke.Richard watched them from near the fireplace, his eyes darting back and forth between husband and wife, measuring every twitch of their faces."What does it mean, Damien?" Alora asked, her voice barely a whisper against the silence of the room.Damien looked down at the display, his jaw tightening so hard a muscle pulsed in his cheek. "I don't know.""You don't know?""I don't."Alora searched his face, desperate for something in his eyes that would anchor her. She wanted to believe him. After everything that had happened between them—the suspicion, the secrets, the quiet moments where she had finally a

Alora read the message again, her thumb pressing so hard against the screen her nail turned white.If she learns who signed the second agreement, she will finally know why her mother had to die.Her chest felt tight, her heart hammering against her ribs. She raised her eyes to her father. "Who sent that?"Arthur Vance quickly tapped his screen, locking the device and sliding it into his jacket pocket. "I don't know.""You're lying again.""Alora—""No!" Her voice cracked, shaking with a volatile mix of rage and betrayal. "You've spent twelve years telling me Richard betrayed my mother. You told me she died because of circumstances you couldn't control. Now I'm standing in your office looking at a message that says her death was directly linked to an agreement you knew about!"Her father looked away, staring fixedly at the heavy velvet curtains drawn across the office window."What else have you been hiding from me?" she demanded, stepping closer to the desk.He didn't answer.Damien t